I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY IT’S A HOLIDAY

I am generally a pretty anxious person. It’s not something that’s totally devoid of merit in some circumstances, I think every group needs a person who is overly cautious to the point of it being infuriating.

I sometimes (okay, I never) think that a couple of me’s hanging around Abu Gharib could have saved the United States a whole lot of bellyaching. In fact, put me near any significant event in history and I’m sure that my ‘Um, is that so smart?’ brand of advancing forth would have saved many lives.

It’s certainly one of my more lovable traits, but I get it around almost everything: Large groups, people, large groups of people. All the usual suspects are presented and accounted for, along with a few oddities.

One thing in particular that makes me uncomfortable is listening to new music without having a precise chronology of the band in question. History of band breakup and drug use at the time goes without saying, and blood type is advantageous but not essential.

It’s hard, bordering on the unreasonably cruel and unusual to listen to music in an information blackout. Partly because it makes me hesitant to form an opinion, but also because the history is half the story- how much better is listening to the genre breaking Tusk knowing that Fleetwood Mac perfected said broken genre with their previous record? Plus, it’s always nice to know if I’m praising someone who’s a prick.

So, I await commendations and applause for listening to Steely Dan’s Can’t Buy a Thrill knowing only two things:

a) Apparently, they gargle my balls.

b) They have either a sense of humor so dry that not even Kirsten Dunst could suck a drop out of it, or are pricks on a Napoleonic scale. I’m leaning towards the first at this time.

That’s it, that’s the gospel of Steely Dan according to me. Oh, I also know about origins of their name, but that doesn’t really count. I mean, music trivia in itself isn’t really useful for anything, and trivia regarding science fiction related sex toys is a dead genre.

Where was I? Oh right, Steely Dan are a pretty cool band. Funny, when I say that I feel like I’m a pretentious 18 year old music nerd out of High School (which is bullshit, I’m 22, and truth be told should still be in high school). I could go on hating all day, but this, unlike the recent dissolution of a romantic relationship, has supposedly nothing to do with me. No, this is about Steely Dan (although, its kind may have also played a part in said break up)

Although Jimmy Page may think the world of the Reelin in the Years solo (and with good reason), their musical aptitude doesn’t just lie in the showy guitar wankery. Although there are plenty of noodely moments, Steely Dan know a thing or two about music theory. Although the albums opener Do it Again sounds, at best, like a distant relation to Jazz, the genre’s influence is obvious, both in the Progressions and in the chords, which have more slashes than a
MCR obsessed teenager.

Talk of such nonsense is good for some enthusiasts, but the average listener is more likely easier to pick up on the choruses. That’s not to say that the songs are dependent on them –their musical ability is just probably better than any other pop band of the time-, just that they feel like the base that the album is built on. The foundations range from the sing-song vocal harmonies on Kings to the almost aggravatingly upbeat Reelin In the Years’

I’ve got no doubt that Steely Dan is a great band, I’m just wondering what their legacy has been. Are there any bands that have based themselves around this sound? (Note: Midnite Cruisers- A loving tribute to Steely Dan don’t count)

Daniel Johnston- Discovered Covered

Daniel Johnston is perhaps one of the more divisive figures in music. He's probably one of your favourite musicians favourite musicians*, yet many either can't stand him or haven't heard of him. Both are understandable-his music certainly doesn't lend itself to commercial success- and he seems just as happy to not be well known. For those who like his music, this mystique probably encourages idolatry and ensures that he’ll almost be infamous to some degree, even though he won’t be on TRL anytime soon.

Even when totally ignoring his personal problems, his music hardly lends itself to mainstream popularity: His voice, although changing wildly, is unique- although rarely 'normal'- and his songs can exceed as well as under whelm. Even when they are good, they're hardly typical songs, Johnson's invariably introduces the same unusual themes throughout much of his music

Often enough these themes –although fascinatingly odd in themselves- evolve into proof that he can write one hell of a song, and that's what this CD best enunciates. Taking away any caveats regarding the presentation or standing in Johnston's catalogue, it allows the lyrics to be shaped by artists more renowned -and perhaps more adept musically- than Johnson. Unsurprisingly enough, they are all indie artists, but the range is still fairly wide.

Devil Town, done in a minimalist fashion by Bright Eyes, has the same rough outer layering that's typically evident in a Johnson recording. Loaded with equal parts accapella aided silence and alt country tweaks, it's one of the highlights. It borders on spooky at times, almost making you believe that all his friends are Vampires (which would explain the whiteness).

Same with the typical sounding Death Cab for Cutie take on Dream Scream. Although meandering towards the seven minute stage, it’s still valuable for being a fascinating hypothetical: What would Johnston sound like in a post OC pop band?

The result is exactly what you'd expect, which is invariably the strength of the album: It's bands that you might know doing exactly what'd expect with Daniel Johnston. More so than other albums, this creates boundless opportunities to gain appreciation for the artists involved- both coverer and coveree. But just how much this individual song hit depends on how much you like the band’s previous work. Just as I’m reminded how much I dislike TV on the Radio, I’m introduced to groups like Guster. Call it a musical on the ‘God openers a window’ philosophy’

Special mention to current ne’er do wronger M. Ward’s perfectly authentic (both to his typical style and to the original song) take on Story of an Artist is as poignant as it is minimalist, encapsulating the pain and paranoia on Johnston (and probably thousands of less capable songwriters).

If anything, Discovered Covered marks the first time that Clem Snide has been bearable. Don’t Let the Sun go Down on Your Grievance is the first time that I’ve really enjoyed their work, even though they’re a band that I really wanted to like

*Assuming your favourite musician has a pasty white complexion and whines a lot.

Steve Earle: I'll Be Alright

Steve Earle is best known to myself (and most others) as the man who blessed the airwaves with Copperhead Head. Contrary to popular belief, he did not die in a car accident (presumably involving the more slippery attributes of Copper that a funnier man may be able to style into some form of a joke) and is still making music.

Sadly enough, Earle has long been overtaken in popularity- at least in alt-country circles- by more modern acts. This fading is unfortunate, as he still has something to offer- the opening I’ll be Alright being a perfect example- both in his usefulness and as a lesson on the virtues of brevity

With two exceptions, each song on I Feel Alright is substantially less than three minutes. No note is overplayed, and no solo lasts any longer than the few bars separating the chorus and the second verse. With no signs of Prog-rock tape wasting, each song doesn’t mince words; a crueler listener might categorize such succinct statements as the mark of a redneck. Earle does no favours to himself in avoiding this comparison: His twang is nothing if not evocative of a ‘Bama born Springsteen, and his songs generally involve cheatin women and -the assumedly toothless- men that they cheat on.

Each track is a quick journey into a Americana a little more country than Springsteen and a little more pop than his Nashville inhabiting contemporaries. The Springsteen comparison flourishes the more you listen, especially on tracks like Valentines Day, where you’d swear it was Springsteen with a southern twang singing of love lost. Even Earle himself recognizes the Boss as an influence, name dropping the chorus of Rosalina in the dying seconds of Hardcore Troubadour, a song that could is written about Springsteen, giving the song’s sentiments.

Earle works best when he keeps it acoustic and simple. The Unrepentant, one the longer songs, is a little too heavy- both in length and amp distortion- for it’s own good. The songs other time wasting contemporary CCKP, is much better, a Poison Whiskey like sermon on the evils of drugs, with Earle’s solo acoustic guitar perfectly fitting the more macabre feel of the song. Similarly, Robert Johnson like South Nashville Blues is a twelve bar blues done right.

Perhaps, like many of the characters in his songs, Earle is looking for success in all the wrong places. Billy and Bonnie, whilst a Bonnie and Clyde tale, sometimes sounds a little too much like Copperhead Road for its own good. It’s probably not an intentional attempt at regaining radio play (as no band has ever been famous by writing similar sounding songs), it’s just that Earle is best when he keeps it simple: A country take on Springsteen, which on second thoughts, is probably not all that easy.

Now for shorter remarks on some CD’s that I didn’t like so much. I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’ve been pretty upbeat about most of the CD’s I’ve listened to. But, hey, everybody makes bad decisions sometimes, which reminds, I’m totally still waiting for Kristen Bell to throw that ass that she’s dating to the curb. Come on, come make time with a real man. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and cry into my pillow What, real men both cry and have pillows…Just necessarily not Sailor Moon embossed ones.

ANYWAY

White Buffalo- Hogtied Like A Rodeo.

It’s an odd phenomenon, but Hogtied sounds too country for it’s own good; almost like a type of self parody. It’s odd for a country CD to be too country, especially when this solo troubadour sounds more a baritone Rob Thomas than Hank Williams. That’s only in terms of voice, because sometime his brand of acoustic driven music is too damn catchy for it’s own good (Time’s main riff) He the kind of guy whose more into bar-room philosophy and copious amounts of self medication (The Bar and the Beer) than introverted moping, although the rather reflective opener (I Believe) might have you thinking it’s Elliot Smith with Boot Spurs. However, the interesting, albeit not ultimately that interesting doomsday story Carnage proves that Hogtied just as often falls into the Bulldust tinged dirt.

Truth be told, this CD isn’t that bad. Now I feel bad for grouping it with Mekon…

Mekon: Fear and Whiskey:

The title of Mekon’s Fear and Whiskey is quite apt- the former because of what it sounds like,’and the latter because of the copious amount s needed to make it enjoyable. Soundly vaguely like a even further Brit-i-fied Robert Smith takes us on a monotone trip through the life of a depressing British life (is there ant other kind?). Just as he seems to be intent on killing himself, and if his music is any indication, he seems intent on taking us with him.

The quite literal retelling of wartime radio chatter of Trouble Down South would be kind of funny if Mekon didn’t think it was worthy of the second track on the album. Same with Psycho Cupid, a meandering wander through the traumatic morning of a young girl. It works too, one tends to feel bad the young lady to be stuck in such a boring song.

Not even a butchered take on Hank William’s ‘Lost Highway can retrieve this from the doldrums, although the Celtic laden Flitcraft almost sounds enjoyable. Compared to the rest of the album it’s a downright masterpiece.